


If You Wanted Cuddles, You Just Had to Ask

by PoorUnfortunateSoul



Series: BokuAkaKuro Week 2016 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, BokuAkaKuro Week, Cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorUnfortunateSoul/pseuds/PoorUnfortunateSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s stupid of him to feel like he’s missing out just because Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t ask him if he wanted to cuddle this time. If anything, he should feel grateful that they’ve come to terms with what he is and isn’t comfortable with, and have stopped asking him.</p><p>-<br/>BokuAkaKuro Week Day Five: Clothing</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Wanted Cuddles, You Just Had to Ask

       _It’s stupid,_ Akaashi thinks, _I’m stupid._  

 

       Akaashi looks to the other end of the couch where Kuroo and Bokuto are. They’d put the movie in a while ago and, it being the third of the night, Bokuto is now leaning sleepily against Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo’s got his arms around him, and one of his hands is just resting against the warm skin of Bokuto’s stomach.

 

       Or at least, Akaashi is guessing that it’s warm, since Kuroo is always complaining about his hands being cold. In turn, he’s always looking for refuge from it, and lately Bokuto’s skin seems to be the perfect remedy for it.

 

Again, Akaashi just has to trust that Kuroo knows his own body temperature, since he’s never really felt his hands. He’s never felt either of his boyfriend’s skin, aside from the high fives at matches and practices.

 

       Akaashi curls his toes into the couch, reprimanding himself for how stupid he’s being. After all, he’s the reason they’ve never touched him – he’s never wanted to be touched, sexual or otherwise.

 

       It’s stupid of him to feel like he’s missing out just because Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t ask him if he wanted to cuddle this time. If anything, he should feel grateful that they’ve come to terms with what he is and isn’t comfortable with, and have stopped asking him.

 

       But he doesn’t. He feels like they’re leaving him out on purpose, like they haven’t talked to him in ages because they don’t want to, and not because he’s been avoiding them lately.

 

       The inadequate feeling had started last week, when Akaashi had come home to find Bokuto wrapped up in one of Kuroo’s overly large sweaters. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but then Kuroo started wearing Bokuto’s hoodies, and well… No one ever asked to wear his, or if he wanted to wear theirs.

 

       He’s not sure why it _bothers_ him so much. Lately, it just seems like Bokuto and Kuroo are getting closer, and leaving him behind. 

 

       The thought alone has him curling his toes in tighter, and a choked noise coming from his throat. He plays it off as a yawn, and neither Bokuto nor Kuroo seem to notice. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

 

-

       Akaashi wakes up the next morning, mind reeling from a petty nightmare. He’d walked in on Bokuto and Kuroo, talking aloud in their kitchen about how they were going to tell Akaashi that they were done with him.

 

       Seeking out comfort, Akaashi wonders off to their bedroom. It seems like he’s the only one that passed out on the couch.

 

       Kuroo and Bokuto are nowhere to be seen, so he walks back into the living room. There’s a harsh _shh!_ from the kitchen, and Akaashi’s heart stutters in his chest.

 

       Akaashi leans his head against the kitchen door. Every now and then he hears his name whispered, but he can’t decipher the words. Tears well up in his eyes, and he pushes his way into the kitchen with his head down.

 

       “Good morning, Akaashi!” Bokuto says with a wide grin that Akaashi doesn’t see.

 

       He waves at the pair and sets out to make himself iced coffee. Akaashi struggles with the package a bit, and ends up ripping it so the grainy bits inside spread out all along the counter.

 

       It’s stupid, and small, but it’s the last built up gone-wrong thing in Akaashi’s life before he’s sobbing. Bokuto and Kuroo are quick on the move, Bokuto cleaning up Akaashi’s mess and Kuroo flitting around Akaashi nervously.

 

       _If I was Bokuto,_ he thinks bitterly, _he would be holding me by now._

The thought makes his cries increase in volume and Kuroo makes a highly alarmed noise.

 

       “Akaashi, it’s okay, it’s only a small mess. See? Bokuto already has it cleaned up,” he tries to sooth, but his voice is too on-edge to do much other than stress Akaashi out more.

 

       Bokuto is the first to break Akaashi’s ‘no touching’ rule, and to his surprise, Akaashi paws at his back to pull him closer. He bitterly notes that the sweatshirt Bokuto is wearing belongs to Kuroo.

 

       “Hey, double A, what’s wrong?” Bokuto asks softly, rubbing Akaashi’s back.

 

       Akaashi pulls back with a stuttering breath. Keeping one arm hooked around Bokuto’s neck, he makes grabby hand motions with other at Kuroo. Kuroo’s eyes widen in disbelief but still, he steps forward and finishes the Akaashi sandwich.

 

 

       “If you wanted cuddles, all you had to do was ask,” Kuroo says, with a nervous chuckle.

 

       Akaashi hums and pulls the two closer. “You didn’t if I wanted to, and no one let me wear their sweatshirts. Thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

 

       “ _What_?” the boy ask, trying to pull away.

 

       Akaashi blushes at his confession and looks away.

 

       “Did you really feel that way, Double A?” Kuroo asks.

 

       Akaashi shrugs. Kuroo and Bokuto look at each other for a few seconds before pulling their hoodies over their heads, and yanking it them over Akaashi’s.

 

       Akaashi swims in the sweaters, but he looks content, and he’s too cute for Bokuto to _not_ smother him in kisses.


End file.
